Without Direction
by ProfAT
Summary: Shuuhei and Renji are filthy hipster boyfriends who go to edgy music stores and live in an apartment with only one piece of furniture. Silly banter is involved.


**Note: I swear to god I'm still working on my 2 other on-going stories. Sort of. I'm human trash.**

"You need professional help."

"I think you're being just a little bit dramatic about this."

"I'm completely serious. I'm pretty sure they have support groups about this kind of thing."

"I can quit any time I want, Renji."

The sun is high, the birds are singing, a patch of ice on the sidewalks outside is causing bodily harm to passing pedestrians, and Shuuhei has dragged his boyfriend to the cool music shop that opened up downtown.

It's everything that a burgeoning musician with high hopes and aspirations (i.e. Shuuhei) could dream of. The inside is dark and not even fully furnished, the bare cement of the floor grinds against the soles of their shoes. High-pitched rock music is blaring from the speakers in the corner with no sign of yielding. A bored semi-adolescent/adult with numerous piercings is slumped over at the counter, either bored or dead. The name of the store is Morning Maladies, which is a terrible pun on Morning Melodies and is offensive to showtune lovers everywhere.

Shuuhei adores it. He's been looking at eight different brands of guitar strings, caught with paralyzing indecision and loving it. Renji is at his side, completely uninterested in any of the shop's paraphernalia, wearing an expression depicting impatience and fondness with equal measure.

"Just make up your mind, already." Renji insists for the tenth time, his voice gradually going from demanding to whining with each repetition.

Shuuhei rolls his eyes and continues trying to figure out how to compare the strings. "If you're so bored then go look around. Who knows, maybe if you actually make an attempt you'll find something you like."

Shuuhei doesn't have to look over, because he can feel Renji pressing himself closer to his side. He shifts his gaze anyways to see Renji sulking at the floor. "I don't want to."

"What's the matter, you scared?" Shuuhei teases.

Renji apparently took it a little too seriously though, judging from his glare. What a buzzkill. "This place is creepy, Shuuhei. This is where filthy hipsters like you flock to and I am not ready for it. I am not of this world."

"You're a big baby." Shuuhei retorts. "And I'm not a filthy hipster. I'm a filthy bohemian. Get your facts straight."

"Same diff. Can we go yet? You're worse than Rukia when she's buying shoes."

"You go shoe shopping with Rukia?"

"I refuse to answer that on the grounds of fuck you. Are you done?"

"No. If you're so afraid of the mean musicians, there's a comic shop down the street. Go play until I'm finished."

Renji mutters something that sounds like complaints mixed with expletive under his breath, and ends with a huff. "I'll be quiet."

"Good boy." Shuuhei smiles, deciding on the brand with the green packaging. He then takes Renji by the hand and drags him deeper within the bowels of the store to look at the posters.

Shuuhei's purchases are placed in a black plastic bag with a cartoon of Cthulhu on it, which even Renji admits is kind of cool. Said redhead is now in a substantially better mood now that Shuuhei has allowed himself to be taken out of the music store and shepherded down the block for lunch.

"I want pizza!" Renji announces. He has not let go of Shuuhei's hand, and as much as that should make Shuuhei feel embarrassed because they're not nine years old the fact makes him a little too giddy to care.

"Do you really want pizza?" Shuuhei suggests. "Or do you just want the pineapple on the pizza?"

"Why do you say that like there has to be a choice? Pizza is great, pineapple is great- doesn't putting them together just make more of a good thing?"

"I think it's gross."

"I think you're gross. Just like your weird shops."

Shuuhei sighs. His breath makes a soft cloud of white in the cold air. He sighs a lot more when he's outside and he can watch his breath. It reminds him of when he was a little kid and he'd pretend he was a dragon who could breath smoke, though he's not likely to admit that in any foreseeable lifetime. "I was serious when I told you that you didn't have to hang around. You don't even like my music."

Renji scoffs and punches Shuuhei on the shoulder. "I like you, dumbass. That counts for something, right?"

"How romantic." Shuuhei snickers. "What if I wrote a song for you? Would you like it better, then? I bet I could. 'Renji's got a body just like an hourglass, I'm takin' my time, takin' my time."

"First of all, that is Jenny by Walk the Moon that you're murdering. Secondly, be honest with yourself and admit that you couldn't play that on your guitar if your life depended on it-"

"'I wanna be the sand inside that hourglass, take it slow-'"

"Thirdly, if you ever try to sing about being 'inside' of me in public, I will murder you. I will. And no court will tell me I was in the wrong."

Shuuhei bumps Renji's shoulder his his own. "Dammit, Renji. Can't you just play your part and swoon as I serenade you?"

"I'm so sorry." Renji stops in the middle of the sidewalk and wobbles like he's going to fall over. Shuuhei is reaching for him out of automatic concern before he even registers the fact that Renji is throwing at arm over his forehead dramatically and batting his eyes for emphasis. "Oh, Shuu-chan, you're so artistic and worldly, the way you tame my confused and wild soul with your broody, awful music. Why, I seem to have contracted a case of the vapors!"

"I'm going to drop you." Shuuhei says, even though he doesn't.

"Love ya' too, baby." Renji uses Shuuhei's grip on him to pull himself back upright. He places a patronizing smooch on Shuuhei's cheek, pauses in the middle of doing so, and pulls back with an expression of sudden surprise.

"What?" Shuuhei narrows his eyes, wondering if he should feel panic that his paramour just recoiled mid-public display of affection.

"Did you know you have stubble?" Renji says in wonder. He pulls Shuuhei's up to his face. "Here, feel it!"

Shuuhei's heart stops, and he tentatively strokes his cheek. Indeed there, very slight, but still present, is the slight prickle of fine whiskers. "Woah, dude!"

"Congratulations." Renji says, almost sincerely for once. "Now you get to shave with all us other big boys."

Shuuhei grins, still touching his own face. "I could grow a beard."

"Theoretically, you could. I don't recommend you doing that, though. For one thing it'd make your tattoos completely pointless and I'd get rug-burns every time we made out."

"I could grow sideburns like you."

"You say that like everybody can pull these bad boys off."

"Renji, would you still love me if I grew a mustache?"

"That's a lot to ask of a person, Shuu."

It's late by the time Shuuhei and Renji get home. Shuuhei's nose is already running like a faucet and Renji makes noises of disgust every time Shuuhei wipes his snot on the back of his gloves.

"I am disgusting, I know." Shuuhei peels his coat, gloves and boots off and tosses them into a messy pile on the floor. Renji's winterwear joins them.

The moving trucks are coming in three days. Until that point, Renji and Shuuhei have but one piece of actual furniture that didn't come with the house, and that's the plastic, inflatable pool chair they got at the dollar store. It sits in the middle of the otherwise bare living room like a piece of minimalist art.

Renji and Shuuhei have been sleeping on it for four days. At least they have central heating, which Renji cranks up as Shuuhei makes himself comfortable on the pool chair under a nest of blankets. The chair sags and hisses a release of air under his weight, the cheap piece of shit.

Shuuhei struggles out of his socks and his jeans so only his boxers are covering his lower half. His shirts are a little more difficult, because he's wearing three of them. Damn all the inconveniences in Shuuhei's life that he can only blame on cold weather.

Shuuhei's binder takes a little more finesse, because of its python-like hold on his body. It's relatively new, and Shuuhei's never had one that was so tight before, that squeezed his chest in a way that wasn't entirely pleasant. Shuuhei's never exactly liked binding his breasts, the way it makes him feel strained and breathless, but ultimately the satisfaction he gets from seeing his chest flattened is more than worth it. One day, if the stars align and Shuuhei stumbles across some money, it'll be flat permanently.

Shuuhei has been taking testosterone treatment for some time, which is why his facial hair must be coming in now. He can chalk that up to the other changes in his body, including the lowering of his voice from a feminine timbre to a smooth, deep, masculine tone. His muscles have also become larger since he began the injections, the way his body carries weight and bulk gradually shifting. His periods have stopped, much to his infinite pleasure, although there was some confusion when he told Renji that he skipped a week and the poor guy nearly had a heart attack from thinking he had gotten Shuuhei pregnant. It was a sad, horrible, hilarious story.

Renji strips down to his boxers and settles next to Shuuhei on the pool chair. He watches Shuuhei fight with his binder for a few minutes with amusement before helping Shuuhei peel himself free.

Shuuhei sighs in relief and sweet, sweet air fills his lungs for the first time in hours. He stretches his arms over his head before slumping over and rubbing his breasts, which have gone sore and achy since the morning.

"I'm gonna teach you how to shave tomorrow." Renji warns him, lying down so he can spoon Shuuhei's hips. "You're going to cut yourself and it's going to be awful and hilarious."

"Oh ye' of little faith. I was shaving things much more difficult than my face for years beforehand. I mean, it's been a while, but I digress." Shuuhei curls up with his back pressed to Renji's chest and Renji's arm slung over his waist and Renji's other arm curled up awkwardly between the two of them like a t-rex. Renji kisses the back of his neck, his breath hot and sweet. Shuuhei tangles his legs with Renji's until his icy feet warm up. It's a euphoric experience. "One way or another, I will take it upon myself to master shaving, and do it even better than you. The student will overcome the master in time, just you wait."

"Your ambitious nature is alarming and you need professional help." Renji says, pressing his face into Shuuhei's shoulder. Shuuhei tugs the blankets tighter around their bodies, and lets himself sink into the warmth with the happy feeling deep within the pit of his stomach that as long as Renji's still curled up with him, he won't get cold in the morning.

Morning.

Morning Maladies. That music store.

Wait. Wait just a fucking-

Fuck, he forgot his guitar strings at the pizza parlor. Goddammit. Shit-fuck goddammit to hell.

"Renji, get my pants."


End file.
